arguing with you is exhausting.

he never liked it, exchanging lip bombs with you. and if he could just take your breath away, he doesn't mind if there's not much to say. like what else can he say? what do you want him to say, huh? should he apologize for being some self centered prick for once in whatever we have, all except the part where we kept blasting lung speakers on each other — something, anything that won't out the fact that he's damn worried about you.

like, can't you wake up and see that he is? it's not even a was. because you just kept on testing it that he don't know when to look away and breathe a sigh of relief cause that just don't exist around you— not when his heart beats hardest for yours.

inside this place is warm, all cozy and all bullshit— outside it starts to pour, so does now in your room with us clashing like titans, again.

"i did it, so what? is it because of the demogorgon? can't you see that i'm not— it's not about babying you or pity or whatever fuck you call it! i—"

—care. i love you!